Running in Kenya

It is still dark, as it is not yet 6 am and the sun is only just beginning to rise. The only sound is the pounding of our shoes on the dirt road, as we pass mud huts nestled amongst fields of maize. Despite the still crispness in the air I am already sweaty and puffing, we have been running for about 15 minutes and are approaching the marketplace. Bright red in the face and exhausted I look at the student next to me- he looks fresh as a daisy and like he is going for a stroll, not a bead of sweat and

The very green lane-ways which we run along

not even puffing. I feel mildly bad that he isn't even getting a workout and is doing so for my benefit whilst his friends are miles ahead. I try to push a little harder and he notices and instantly picks up the pace, backpeddling sheepishly when he realises I'm not actually able to maintain it...

Running is probably what Kenyans are most famous for and knowing there was a budding group of keen runners at the school was something I was keen to get involved with.  I have tried to run with the kids as frequently as I can- which is unfortunately not all that often. Mostly I run with a girl called Stella- not because she is a particularly outstanding runner but moreso because she has shoes. I asked a bunch of girls if they wanted to come for a run with me but they only had school shoes and thongs and didn't want to go for a long run in either...

When running in Kenya, you never run alone. Always my students will keep pace with me and run at whatever speed I can maintain. Occasionally the boys will all speed off into the distance but not without first selecting one to run slowly with the muzungu. People appear from their houses and shops and cheer you on like you are running a marathon. Ladies with their shopping and buckets on their heads will jog along next to you giggling and cheering.

At Chesamis with some of the students 

This particular morning is slightly out of the ordinary as we are running a much longer distance. Chesamis is  the name of our destination- 11 km each way with a large steep incline leading to a lookout where we can rest before the return journey. When we approach this incline I tell the student with me that he can run ahead if he likes, he rockets into the distance, my backpack full of water and snacks bouncing on his back as he runs - of course he hadn't let me carry it despite my protests.  I look up at the destination and can see ten or so lads waving from the rocks, listening carefully I can hear their encouraging cries waft down the valley. Knowing they are all watching and cheering spurs me on and I manage to increase to a faster jog up the final few hundred metres. I am met with a standing ovation, ruckus applause and many cries of 'visuri sana madam!' (well done, madam!).

Although I don't do it as often as I like, I never regret going out for a run. The students are so keen, the exercise is beneficial and the feeling of being alive and free that you get when running is like no other.

Diary of a Day!

I often say that life here is busy, however when people ask what I actually do it can be hard to remember everything...  Every day is different so I just decided to choose a day at random and keep track of the happenings..

Monday 9th June, 2014 

My alarm rings at 6:15 am, I hit snooze and have a few more delicious minutes of sleep. When I wake up the second time I can hear the cook chopping wood outside our door- he arrives well before 5 to get the fires going and make the tea. Bearing this in mind I get out of bed. I make a quick instant coffee and check my emails, the time difference usually means I have more contact in the mornings, but all I have today is another travel warning from the Aus government about dangers in Kenya....

I grab some socks a bucket and the kettle and head out the door to school- when I step outside the door I am effectively 'at school'. As soon as I unlock the library five students appear. A couple of boys with sports injuries from yesterday, a couple of library books returned and a few requests for sticky tape and glue (most kids can't afford their own basic stationary and often borrow from me).
I set up my 'first aid' area, as I have a mother and son with nasty hand and feet conditions that I am treating from the local community who have been visiting every morning. I boil the kettle for warm water and get their bandages and socks out and ready as I do this a few more kids trickle in with various requests.

The bell rings for assembly, I greet the other teachers who have arrived and pass a library announcement to the teacher on duty and then have to leave as I see my patients arrive. It takes me almost an hour to soak, dry and dress their hands and feet. After they leave I quickly sit down to do a little bit of lesson planning, I am interrupted by a student who tells me he thinks he has malaria - a common ailment! I take his temperature and do a malaria test on him, it shows up negative but I give him some pain killers and tell him to come and see me tomorrow.

My form 2 CRE class

Time to do some teaching, Monday is one of my easier days as I only have four lessons + bible studies. I teach a couple of CRE lessons, English and Lifeskills. For bible studies I have two classes combined (over 90 students) they are super lively today and we have some great singing!

In between my lessons one of my students comes to me clearly distressed, she tells me that she has just found out her best friend was killed in a tragic accident in Nairobi, we chat for a little while and then arrange for her to go back to the dorm and be exempt from classes for the remainder of the day. Despite the tragedy she has a very mature outlook saying she knows it must happen to each of us someday but confused as to why it happened at such a young age. Death is so much more of a reality here.

Library time after school

Over the course of the day I have 24 'first aid' cases- a new daily record! These range from jiggers and malaria to papercuts and sore throats, some students are wary to come for first aid and will often come with a friend for support, I try to encourage them to come as soon as they notice something wrong because so often something like a small cut can get infected and bad because of being left for too long.

The final bell rings at 4:05 and instantly I have over 50 students in the library, on computers and reading newspapers and books. I try to do some of my teaching planning and marking but I am constantly busy assisting students. I stay until 6:00 pm and then kick all remaining students out and pop home for dinner.

I am presider for night time bible study so after dinner I race back out and get it going, after this 30 min session I have a couple of kids with cuts and stomach aches. We have baptism study class at our house so I round up some of the more forgetful kids who like to attend (it is a non-compulsory group) and head back to the house. Greg leads the session while I sneakily send some
emails on my ipod. The students leave and I wash some socks for tomorrow, have a cup of tea and head off to bed for an early night. Tuesday is my 'busiest' teaching day so want to be well rested for tomorrow!

The library can be a busy place! 

Checking for mail

The official documentation for teaching certification and residency is proving to be quite a difficult process. Considering it took 2 ½ months to simply obtain the form I got it filled out and emailed back as quickly as possible. However, after a few weeks I heard from my logistics guy saying it had been rejected by the ministry of education as they only accepted original handwritten copies- not scanned and emailed.

He arranged to have the form couriered to me and said the courier would ring when it arrived. 2 weeks passed with no phone call and every time I tried to call the courier it didn’t connect.

I decided to just got to the deppo and ask them in person if it was there.  Easier said than done.

A friend who lives at the school agreed to accompany me to the nearby town and so we walked a couple of kilometres to the market to get some transport. Matatus are the most common form of public transport in Kenya, small white vans, licensed to carry 14 people and seemingly unbound by any road rules.

Every time I have travelled in one it has been quite an experience and this was no different! Initially I was offered the front seat- muzungu privileges- but I opted to sit in the back with my friend. Upon realising he had a muzungu aboard the driver was keen to get going as soon as possible, however  they never take off until completely maxed out. This means every seat taken, small pieces of wood placed between the seats across the ‘aisle’ to fit more people, a few standing up and crouching over the rest of us and a couple hanging out the door. We don’t get going until over 20 people are crammed in. I am surprised to have my whole seat to myself until a large purple satin clad mumma clambers in and sits ontop of me. I try not to feel too claustrophobic and crane my neck to see around her and out the windscreen to see what the holdup is. The road we are loading up on is under construction and not to be driven on. The construction manager in a large ute is heading straight for us and our driver seems not to notice, he glances up and immediately fangs it in reverse- hitting a guy off his motorbike. This causes a bit of a ruckus with much yelling and gestures, another guy appears and ousts the driver, climbing into the seat and taking over. The driver runs around to the other side of the van and hangs out the door.

After 30 minutes of fluffing about finally we are off, weaving our way at relatively high speed through the market. We go over a particularly large bump and the two guys hanging out the door fall off.  An opportunist sitting by the door takes it upon himself to slam it shut and we leave our former driver in a cloud of dust. I am mildly interested as to who actually owns the vehicle and why it is appropriate to kick out the driver but everyone else seems unperturbed.

About 5 minutes into our journey a loud bang causes the van to stop. We have burst a tyre. Considering the rough roads and the state of the car I am not surprised! The driver gets out and locates the spare tyre- which happens to be also burst. He flags down an oncoming matatu which bears the same company name- it pulls over but upon hearing what we want they aren't interested in helping and speed off again amidst loud cursing in Swahili from our driver who is unimpressed at the lack of camaraderie. Eventually a matatu from another company pulls over and gives us one of their tyres, but it is taking a long time so my friend flags down another matatu and we squeeze in the new one- once again over 20 people on board.

One of the guys standing up and crouched double across us starts clicking his fingers for money, I’m not sure exactly how it works as it seems that only some people pay and they seem to pay different amounts. After about 20 minutes my friend tells me to pay 140 shillings for our fare (about $1.60 for the two of us).  

We appear to stop at random places for various reasons, at once stage the cops pull us over and the money man has a quick conversation. I suspect ‘something small’ changed hands as any more than 14 passengers is a punishable offence and yet we take off after only a few seconds.

It takes around 40 minutes to get to town and we find the courier office in a matter of minutes. I tell her my name and ask for my letter, she has a look through some boxes and tells me sorry its not there. I glance at my friend in alarm and then ask her to look again. She starts leafing through a mountain of paperwork asking when it was sent. I produce all  the details I have and upon seeing the receipt number she quickly locates the letter.

The journey home is much the same as the trip there, a particularly memorable moment when the driver goes over a bump rather quickly and the man next to me becomes irate yelling ‘you are driving silly, you nincompoop!’ then sneaking a self-satisfied glance at me, as if hoping I would be impressed with his English. I struggled to hold in my laughter and turned to look out the window.

Checking the letterbox at home has always been one of life's little pleasures and I guess even though it took over 3 hours here it was overall an enjoyable experience!